


Il Giardino dell'Uomo Verde // The Green Man's Garden

by Nico_Weetch



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: DorkyParents.jpg, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon, Self-Indulgent, Wholesome, You know what that is? Growth, green thumbs, knife family, puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nico_Weetch/pseuds/Nico_Weetch
Summary: Stop by the garden, see what's growing  //A series of day to day events that happen in the ever growing garden within the Lake's backyard.





	Il Giardino dell'Uomo Verde // The Green Man's Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Since this short was so well received on Tumblr, and honestly it's something I can't stop thinking about, I've decided to plant it here too (I warned you there'd be puns). That and I really enjoy the idea of writing an easy going fic 
> 
> Would you believe me if I told you this was originally born from my own love of gardening, and the want to see Strickler in a goofy gardening outfit? 
> 
> Haha on that note Enjoy!

Over two years and a half had passed since the Eternal Night. The sun was beaming high in the deep blue California sky. Like a glaring white frisbee in some Beverly Hill’s eccentrics’s backyard pool. 

In the Lake’s backyard, however, was a well tended garden. A kumquat bush, two olive trees, and half of the neighbor’s orange tree, who’s branches had stretched over the fence in search for more light. 

By the veranda was a potted lemon tree, still thin and young. Surrounding the fence was heather. 

Despite Walter’s personal preference for hydrangea’s the continued California drought didn’t make it a practical plant to try and keep. So much of that water could be used elsewhere. 

And so, instead, there was a miniature rock garden with cactuses, equally lovely (which Barbara enjoyed very much). Some of the cactuses showed promise to bloom soon. Walter loved those moments. Bearing witness to a cacti’s  potential to flower. 

Walter, stuck in troll form, was tending to the small patch of a potential vegetable garden by the lavender. Wearing his sun-tolerant garb. 

A comical miss-mash of various things that kept the changeling safe from the sun’s rays of light. It was a fun outfit he and Barbara spent time trying to put together, as well as a good deal of laughter, and wine, and kisses.

On his head they made a very large hat out of a golf umbrella. In place of his cloak of feathered blades, was instead a long rain coat. His arms were gloved up to his forearm. And despite wearing comfortable linen shorts, on his feet he wore knee length wellington boots. 

And that was just one variation both Barbara and Walter thought up. 

Walter hummed and sang old songs in a language dead and gone. As coaxing fertility into the earth with humble tunes, and pleased gentle sighs. While a bumble bee crawled over the wide rim of his umbrella hat. 

With the opening of the back screen door, Walter smiled to himself, and said, “I think we have a shot at tomatoes this year.”

“Oh good!” grinned Barbara, setting down a tray of her attempt at lemonade. Which, despite Jim’s multiple explanations and instructions, somehow manages to have a lingering bitter taste to it. Though Walter the changeling didn’t mind this, and Barbara (who was known to take double espresso shots) barely noticed or cared. 

It was a lemonade all their own. 

“After a stern lecture, I’m sure they grasped the concept.” Walter said, thumbing a small leaf gently. 

“Ah.” Barbara flopped into the garden chair pleasantly, kicking off her flip-flops to wiggle her toes into the grass. “Growth.” She dipped her head back to be cradled by the chair. Basking in the sun like a comfortable cat. “How about the cucumbers? They giving you any trouble?”

“No, no…but the war against the snails rages ever onward! All the same they’re icumen in.” 

“Walt!” Barbara snorted at his slip of Middle English, which sounded a little racier in modern times. “The _neighbors_.” she fanned herself feigning to be scandalized.

“What?” Walter lifted his head, “Obviously I meant-” he waddled around to look at Barbara, who continued her facade of being faint at heart. 

Meekly, although being anything but meek, Barbara lifted her hand, offering it up to be consoled. 

By duty, and equal silly-ness, Walter obliged. Looking like a very peculiar bee-keeping prince. He patted her hand with a “There, there, Doctor.” lathered in amusement. “I’m sure in your chest cutting you’re not used to such words. How _do_ you manage in the theater room I’ll _never_ know.”

Barbara gave a snort, her mouth twitching in her struggle to keep up such a serious look. It was the most adorable thing to Walter, watching Barbara struggle to keep a straight face during their riffs and goofy shenanigans. Often times wheezing into unintelligible giggles. Though in the face of Walter being able to deadpan almost anything, who could blame her. 

“Oh, hrrpppffff (snort), you know, the Lake family strength.”

“How very noble.” Walter nodded reverently. “Truly.”

The chair started to shake along with Barbara’s repressed giggling.

“I can see now this must be affecting you.” he said seriously over another one of Barbara’s snorts. “Is there anyway I can console you.”

Barbara shook her head, then nodded her head, then bit her lip, and pulled Walter in to a giggly kiss. Walter responded in kind. 

“Okay, whew, okay” Barbara dabbed her eyes a little, and thumbed Walter’s stoney cheek. “…actually..now that you mentioned cucumbers a cumin. There is something I wanted to tell you.” the good doctor gestured to the chair opposite her. 

“Oh? Do tell.” went Walter, pressing another kiss into her cheek before obliging to sit. 

Barbara gestured him to scoot his chair closer. 

He did so. 

She paused for effect, opened her mouth, then gestured him to scoot his chair closer still.

With a chortle, he happily obliged. Leaning to the side of the armrest. Barbara wiggled her finger to lean a little more. 

He did so.

Before saying anything, she rested her hand on his, and planted a little kiss on his cheek. Then finally, after a taking a little breath, and ignoring Walter’s “What is this?” Barbara disclosed a secret she had been keeping for a few months now.

The more she spoke, the more Walter’s cat eyes dilated and sharpened and dilated again with the mixed emotion of shock, fear, excitement, delight, and more fear. 

“What?” breathed Walter. Barbara couldn’t stop grinning kissing his knuckles as he scooped her little hands into his. “How? What? I don’t….but how? I didn’t think it was possible I…” More kisses fluttered over Walter’s shocked face. 

“Well.” went Barbara, doing her darnedest to master a deadpan delivery as a blush spread more and more over her cheeks. “In my medical opinion. It can happen when you’re a,” she giggled and whispered into his ear, “ _icumen in_.” 

 It was a good thing they were so close to the veranda. For when Walter went to scoop and twirl Barbara his silly umbrella hat fell clean off. The two roared with nervous laughter and cheer. Plummeting the rest of the day, and coming week, into celebrating, fear, and the continued reminders and flowered reassurance that yes, this was happening, really happening. 

Jim was going to be an older brother. 

 

Sumer is icumen in,  
Lhude sing cuccu!  
Groweþ sed and bloweþ med  
And springþ þe wde nu,  
Sing cuccu!  
Awe bleteþ after lomb,  
Lhouþ after calue cu.  
Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ,  
Murie sing cuccu!  
Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu;  
Ne swik þu nauer nu.  
Pes:  
Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu.  
Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu!

               

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> For those interested you can listen to Sumer is Icumen in, here: https://youtu.be/sMCA9nYnLWo 
> 
> Don't forget to stay hydrated!


End file.
